Don't Tell Me Your Name
by BlueShirts
Summary: Two strangers in a bar picks up a conversation which might lead to something more than either of them can predict. Just one rule of the night - Don't Tell Me Your Name. ("Two-shot")
1. Chapter 1

_Honestly, I have no idea what this is. It was just a random idea that popped into my head and I thought I would give it a shot. If you want to read more, then let me know, and if not - consider this a weird oneshot. Cheers!_

* * *

 **Prologue**

 **Don't Tell Me Your Name**

* * *

 _Dear diary,_

 _There is something special with being in a bar, let alone living above one. Let me give you in on one of my cheesy secrets – I have a wild fantasy of starting a random conversation with a stranger right here by the bar. Nowadays there is those stupid apps like Tinder which is taking over the spontaneous situations we get. I don't want to log into my account and swipe some random guys right only because they look hot, then go on a date to get dumped the next hour. I want to meet a guy old school, perhaps that makes me more stupid than normal and people will think I'm only dreaming because that's not how the world works anymore. But that is how I feel. Think about it, how dreamy it would be for a guy to approach you by the bar and pick up a conversation, maybe even buy you a drink? Isn't that the dream?_

Casey tapped the pencil against the page of her notebook. It seemed like all of her inspiration of writing something good suddenly ran out of her body. She had never had a problem with writing before, not even when she had been a teenager in junior high and had 'huge' boy problems. Perhaps that had been an even easier time for her to write considering her hormones and feelings had been all over the place.

"You OK there, Casey?" Ryan asked from behind the bar. He was in the middle of making Sex on the beach for a flirting blonde on the other side of the bar.

Casey nodded. "I'm fine, just bored." She slammed her notebook shut to put it in her bag. "Hit me up with one of those too?"

"Sex on the beach? Not until you're twenty-one, but nice try," Ryan chuckled. Casey rolled her eyes, the woman on the other side didn't look a day over eighteen and it wasn't fair. Then again, trying to get a drink at your uncle's bar might not have been the most brilliant idea Casey had come up with. Also because of the fact that she had been living there for the last couple of days. Ryan might be impulsive and kind of childish, but obviously not stupid.

Ryan disappeared to the other end of the bar, leaving her there by herself again. She leaned her head against her hands and breathed in a deep sigh. It had been a long day.

"Rough night?"

 _And like a lightning on the clear sky he appeared._

Casey crooked her neck to look to the side where the voice had come from. There was a boy – no screw that – a _man_. Probably in his middle twenties, wearing a black leather jacket and a v-neck black shirt. He had a bunch of necklaces around his neck and a pair of perfect fitting jeans. In his hand he held a glass of bourbon. But that wasn't the thing Casey almost let out a gasp about, she had never seen a pair of more beautiful eyes.

His eyes were sparkling blue, with a hint of playfulness as well as gentlemen in them. His hair was dirty blonde, short and roughly made as if he had just woken up from a long slumber – thereby also the small hint of stubble on his dimpled cheeks.

Casey scowled. Not the kind of way when you're mad or irritated, but the kind of way when your positively surprised. Like one of your long lasted dreams had appeared right in front of your eyes.

"Something like that," Casey answered as the man sat down next to her. A wave of his manly cologne washed over her – it smelled amazing.

"Can I buy you a drink?" he asked. British accent – check.

"Sorry, I'm under-age and my uncle owns the bar," Casey explained with a gesture toward the brown-haired guy across the room. Ryan was flirting with the blonde girl who sipped her Sex on the beach from a straw. Gross.

"That's a bummer," the man said. He took a sip of his bourbon.

"Tell me about it."

"So what are you doing at a bar this late at night? Bad breakup?" he asked with a crooked smile.

"I wish," Casey sighed. "At least that would have been a great story to tell my grandchildren."

"Your grandchildren?"

"Yes, I'm from the future where people are born old and grow younger. I'm really one-hundred-and-forty-six years old. Ready to run yet?"

He turned in his seat. "Not even close. Quite the opposite actually, it sounds like you'd like me to leave and if you haven't noticed, a woman hard to catch is a challenge. And I love a good challenge."

Casey bit her lip and narrowed her eyes at him. A teenage boy would definitely have run the other direction by now.

"A woman? Wow. The last time someone called me a woman was when it was dress-like-a-grown-up in high school," Casey said amused. "Which means you're either a stalker or has a thing for blondes."

"A stalker? Do you really think that low of me?" He acted offended by draining his drink and pressing a hand against his chest. "I take it you're still in high school then?"

" _Ouch_. Graduated two years ago. I'm in that stupid stage between being a young adult but clearly not old enough for a drink at a bar."

It was a stupid stage, admit it. Why would USA be about the only country in the freaking world where the drinking limit was 21? In Germany they were allowed to drink at sixteen and in Denmark no one even cared! Not that a five year old would ever drink alcohol but whatever.

"College then?" the man asked as he raised his hand to get Ryan's attention from the blonde. Casey's uncle didn't hesitate to run over to her rescue. You know that part where a father would be overprotective for seeing his daughter talking to a stranger? This was kind of the same thing, only that it was Casey's uncle, not dad.

"What's up? What can I get you?" Ryan asked, his voice raising in suspicious as he eyed the man and then Casey – who shrugged innocently.

"A shot of whiskey and as for my friend here – 7up? Coke?" he turned his head as for asking what Casey wanted was the most obvious thing in the world. Casey had to hand it to this man, he had a strong pair of balls for daring to shoot a question like that in front of her uncle. Ryan wasn't exactly a small guy.

He had been the Quarterback in high school, which meant his body was built for fights. He was tall, strong and had a mean looking face. Don't get this wrong – he was like a teddybear on the inside as long as it didn't have anything to do with Casey.

"Ice-tea is fine Ryan," Casey said.

"You know that's my niece right?" Ryan said without taking his eyes off the man while pouring his drink.

"It was the first thing she told me, mate," the man answered casually before paying Ryan. "Keep the change."

Ryan pouted and leaned into Casey. "If he make a move, scream."

"Got it," Casey said. Ryan winked at her before returning to his conversation on the opposite end of the bar.

"You know, after buying me a drink I was sure you were going to ask my name," Casey said and continued before he had a chance to interrupt her. "But I'm glad you haven't."

"Why? Is it that bad?" the man asked.

"No, not at all, it's just – I have this _theory_."

"A theory?"

"Yes. A theory that if you give up to much of yourself in the first meeting there won't be a second one. Like the universe has some sort of a plan and if you try and interfere with it, it will just be screwed up," Casey explained.

He chuckled and put down his glass on the bar. "You're quite something."

Casey wasn't the kind of person who got embarrassed easily, she rarely even blushed for anything. Her mother had always explained her as spontaneous and courageous. Which Casey always had taken as a good thing, even in kindergarten she had been the one to say the weird stuff in the class that got everyone to laugh. She wasn't stupid, she just didn't care what people thought of her and she wasn't afraid of expressing her feelings.

This time something was different, she wasn't embarrassed for what she was telling this stranger, and he didn't seem to judge her too much. Although he made her feel nervous, which she hasn't been in her entire life. OK, that was a lie, she had been nervous three times in her life. But only three. This would be the fourth time.

Casey jerked in her seat and turned toward him. "Do you – do you want to get out of here?"

He raised his eyebrows, surprised.

"Not – not like _that_. I mean – do you want to go for a walk or – or something?" she asked, feeling her heartbeat raising inside her chest. This rarely happened, why was she so nervous?

He slowly raised his glass with bourbon to his mouth and drained it in a shot. Not even a grimace of strong alcohol went across his face – something Casey found impressive. Or perhaps Ryan had put colored water instead of whiskey in his glass? One never knew.

"On one condition," he finally answered after obviously pretending to contemplate the question for a long while.

"What?"

He smiled playfully as he got up from his seat and quickly snatched a bottle of hardcore liquor from behind the bar. Casey's eyes darted over to Ryan but he was too busy to notice anything. The man licked his outlined naturally red lips and shot her a smirk.

" _Don't tell me your name._ "


	2. Chapter 2

_On the request of some of the very kind reviews I got, I decided to continue writing. Not only because you guys were awesome and really warmed my heart, but also because I felt inspired and am curious about where this story might lead us... So let's find out, shall we?_

 _Please tell me if you'd like me to continue or if this should only be a two-shot. Thanks and enjoy._

* * *

 **Chapter One**

 **A Walk To Remember**

* * *

The night was chilly, almost causing Casey to regret that she hadn't brought her jacket. Not that she was that cold, at least she had her blue shirt on her which gave her some warmth. Besides, she preferred the cold more to the hot weather they usually had. The stars were shining in the sky as Casey and the stranger walked the filled streets. People said New York City was the place which never slept, while Casey was pretty sure New Orleans wasn't far behind.

"You never answered my question," the stranger pointed out as they rounded a corner and entered an empty alleyway. Casey turned to face him while walking, looking confused. "If you're in college?"

"College? Me? No way!" He looked at her like he demanded an explanation. "It's a long story and to be honest, I'm much more interested in the bottle in your hand." She pointed at the hard liquor he was holding, which he himself had seemed to have forgotten.

"This?" he teased, waving the bottle in front of her face. "You're underage." He opened the bottle with ease and swiped a big gulp of its content.

"Don't be such an ass," Casey shot and reached for the bottle but he held it out of her reach. "Come on!"

"Last time I checked, I was the one who owned the bottle."

"Really? Well, last time _I_ checked, you stole that bottle from a bar which my uncle owns. Which basically makes it half mine." Casey halted in front of him with her hand outstretched. "Now give it."

"Demanding little thing aren't you," he muttered as Casey finally got her hands around the bottle. She took a small sip and tried not to look too grossed out about it. The taste burned her inner soul. Or at least that's what it felt like.

"God what _is this_ ," she choked as she handed the bottle back to the man who casually took two big sips as if it was water.

"Vodka," he answered.

"Figured, that tasted like – like something really bad."

He rolled his eyes playfully as he pushed one of his hands down his jeans pocket and walked on. Casey knew this was probably the worst thing she had ever found herself doing. Why would she be stupid enough to walk into the night with a complete stranger? Sorry, a complete, _hot_ stranger. If her mother knew about this she would flip out and ban her from even exiting the apartment above the bar. This was either a horrormovie where she would be murdered in the end, or a romantic movie where he turned out to be like a perfect prince. Casey didn't exactly believe in that kind of cheesy stuff, considering people were just people, everyone had a good side and a bad side. Nothing and no one were perfect.

"And I'm not _that_ short," Casey said. "If that's what you meant with calling me 'little thing'."

"No offense but you are rather short," he mocked her.

Casey shoved him to the side with what she thought was some effort – but turned out he barely stepped to the side – while exclaiming a "hey!"

"Are you like a descendant from the minions or something?"

"Funny," Casey muttered.

"I mean, you're blonde and short. At least you don't have squeaky voice," he said. " _And_ you have a blue shirt on. Just proving my point here." He took another sip from the bottle as he dodged her other try to push him off balance.

"I happen to like this shirt," Casey shot back.

They had reached a short bridge, which was lighted up with small firefly lights all over the place. It reminded Casey of Christmas lights which you put on the three. It was very beautiful. Casey immediately acted like a child and went to balance walk on the railing.

"I will not jump in to save you if you fall into the water, sweetheart," the stranger pointed out.

"You don't think I can take care of myself?"

"I'm pretty sure you are capable of it, I'm only pointing out that your balance might not," he said as Casey was very close to losing her grip and falling over but managed to keep herself upright by gripping onto a pole holding up the roof of the bridge. She swung around with her arms around the pole before stopping faced to the stranger and her arms around the pole as if she was hugging it.

"Have you ever been in love?" she asked simply, as if she was asking about something casual like the weather. "Like madly, enchanted in love? And the only person you can think about is that particular person, even if you have a crazy job interview the next day?"

The man slowly walked across the bridge to lean against the railing where Casey was standing. He stayed quiet for quite some time, playing with the bottle in his hands and looking out on the dark water.

"Is that what happened to you?" he finally asked.

Casey breathed a large amount of air into her lungs without meeting his eyes, her own burning behind the eyelids as if she was about to start crying fire.

"No," she breathed. "Not to me at least."

He took a swing of the bottle. "Then what happened?"

"My mother happened," Casey explained. "She is the reason why I am here and not in Boston where I thought I belonged. But then I had to leave it all, because of her." She jumped down from the railing to lean her back to it instead, her arms crossed over her chest. "She was in an accident two weeks ago on her way to a job interview which _I_ had made her go to.

"She was late, because she had dropped me off somewhere and had to go all over to the other side of town. She was driving over the speed limit and – and she didn't see the red light and there was this truck and – and -…" Casey pushed her hands over her eyes, trying to hold back the tears and it worked. "She um – she didn't make it to the hospital." Casey sighed and turned around to face the same direction as him. "I don't blame myself or anything, it just sucks that she was there one moment and the next she was gone you know."

Casey reached for the bottle, took it and swept a huge amount of it, which made her cough.

" _Oh god_ ," she exclaimed.

He chuckled and took back the bottle. "No more booze for you, love."

"Fair enough," Casey agreed. "So what about you, got any skeletons hanging in your closet?"

"Way too many to cover up in one night," he said with a smirk.

"Wow, a guy with many secrets, interesting," Casey said. "It's almost like being back in high school, except that I doubt your secrets contain stuff like smoking weed behind the bleachers and planning illegal parties at someone's house." He raised his eyebrows in confusion. "Sorry about all the talk about high school. Bad experience. Never got to go to prom, you know. Scarred me for life." She was being sarcastic.

He chuckled. "Here I was guessing you got voted for prom queen."

"Yeah, _noooo,_ " Casey said shaking her head. "Not even close."

They stood there in silence for a while, watching the sparkling stars way up in the sky and the slightly waving water underneath them. For some reason Casey felt more like herself than ever before, while her mother had still been alive she had felt this pressure of succeeding, but now all she felt was relief. Was that a bad thing to feel after you have just lost your mother? She couldn't decide if she was doing the right thing by moving away and never look back. It felt right at this particular moment, that was one thing she was sure of. Even if it came with being around a perfect stranger, who she didn't know anything about except that he was _very_ hot.

"What are you smiling about?" the man asked when he saw the sudden smirk appearing on her face.

Casey chuckled and looked down at her feet. "I'm – um – I'm happy." she looked up to meet his eyes, they really were the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen in her entire life. He looked down at her, a hint of confusion hiding behind the thick wall he had surrounding him.

Casey was sure this was one of those magical moments you could see in movies, where there was the perfect light around them, the stars and the water. There was even some jazz music playing in the far distance. It was too good to be true. Like her own made fairy tale.

The stranger broke their magical moment of eye-contact after what felt like an eternity. He cleared his throat and swept the rest of the vodka bottle, Casey hadn't even noticed how much he had been drinking. He must be on the edge of throwing up already.

"Thank you," Casey said.

"For what?" he asked and tossed the bottle into the water. They watched it disappear before Casey answered.

"For listening to me and not looking at me like I'm some crazy person," she said. "I bet a lot of guys would have ran in the other direction the second I started talking gibberish."

"I value honesty," he said simply. "Are you cold?"

Casey was sure he was going to suggest they would turn in for the night, but before she had a chance to inject, he had taken off his leather jacket and tossed it over her shoulders. Immediately a warmth filled her body, she hadn't even noticed she had been shivering. Although the jacket made her look like a kid – it was way too big for her. Not that she complained, considering she now could see his upper body even better. And it wasn't a bad sight.

"You – you didn't have to do that," she said. "If, of course, you didn't do it to make me look even smaller than I already am and mock me for it."

"My plan precisely," he admitted with a grin.

"Look, I should probably head back anyway before Ryan finds out I'm missing and will send out a search party to find me. He can get very paranoid sometimes…" Casey started taking some steps back toward the same direction that they had come from. The stranger pushed his hands deep down in his pants' pockets and didn't take his eyes of off her. "Right, the jacket-"

"Keep it," he interrupted her. "As a promise to the universe that we will meet again."

Casey wasn't sure if he was joking or not.

"Right, the universe," Casey nodded.

"Before you leave, may I ask you one question?" he asked.

"You already did."

"I meant - "

"I know, I'm just being stupid. What do you want to ask?"

He took a step toward her, that the smell of his lovely cologne washed over her once again and made her heart skip a beat.

"Perhaps this is against your theory, but would you mind meeting me here in a week?" he said with a low voice. "Because – as a test to the universe, if it doesn't agree, _you_ won't be able to make it."

Casey let out a laugh. "Oh wow, I never thought of it that way."

"So, is that a yes?" he asked innocently as he put his head down but still looking at her in the corner of his eyes.

"We'll see," she said mysteriously.

He nodded. "I thought you'd say that." He sighed. "For what it's worth, I dare say I hope I'll meet you later." He paused. "Stranger."

"Yeah, me too," Casey agreed. Then without hesitation she spun around and started walking away in a confident speed. She would be lying if she had said she wasn't nervous or close to turning around one last time to get a last glimpse of him. If she did and she would see him staring at her, she would probably not be able to continue walking. But then again, if this was the last time she ever saw him…

She turned around, only to find the bridge completely deserted. As if he had never even been there.


End file.
